THE MAN ON THE RAFT.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 3097, 21 May 1892, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE MAN ON THE RAFT.

Tiie ship lay hove to in a gale of wind in the Indian Ocean. It was one of the clearest skies overhead you ever saw. The eye eoulc, not detect the smallest spook of a cloud, and the sunshine was simply glorious. But how the wind did blow ! And what an awful sea it kicked up 1 1= was a gale of wind such as is never seen on laud, with not even the smallest island in its path for 2000 long miles. It was not a hurricane, but a steady gale, screaming, shrieking, and rushing to the west, at the rate of a hundred miles an hour—perhaps faster. We had hove the ship to at midnight. She was new and staunch, and her captain was a veteran of the sea, but when daylight came to give us a-view of the ocean no man elared to say our craft would live ten minutes. Men who had sailed for twenty years felt the qualms of ceasickness as we pitched about. The seas wore something' terrible. As they came down upon us out of _tlw east —out of that vast ocean stretching: away unbroken to the south of Australia—they towered up forty feet high. One who watched felt that the great wall of water must break over the botvs and founder the ship hv dead weight, but as_ he continued to gaze with fast-beating heart her bows suddenly lifted up, anel she appeared to elimb right up the wave at an angle as steep as any house-roof. Reaching the crest, she paused for a moment, rolled to starboard and back, and then went sliding down, down, down until your heart stooel still for fear it was all over.

It was ten o clock in Ihe morning'. We had life-lines streched fore and afs, but none of the moil were moving about. Thcv gathered in groups wherever they could find shelter from the howling gale and driving spr.xy, but ready for any call. 1 was looking' ahead when I suddenly caught si<rat of a small object ou the crest of an approaching wave. I could not make it out at first for the foam, but presently it Mue sliding down the incline, and tliriti I saw that is was a small raft. The structure was so light and flimsy that the wonder was how it held together._ It was just such a raft as a- couple of sailors could knoos together iu half an hours' t.imo, and in the centre of it, with his back braced against a water keg which was firmly lashed iu place was a man. His face was towards us. He was not a common sailor, but a captain or mate. He had a lashing about liis waist, but liia hands and legs were free.

And now the raft came sliding down the wave like a sled on a snow-covered hill, and I looked the man square iu the eyes. He waa of middle age, and there •ould be no mistake as to his vocation. He took in our craft alow and aloft at one glance. For three or four seconds something like hope came into his look, but then it vanished. He realised that it was utterly out oi' our power to aid him, Had rhero been a thousand men aboard our ship not one of them could have lifted a hand. He looked into mj eyes in dumb despair as ha swept past, too far away to have caught a rope even had there been one at hand to fling him. My eyes may have expressed pity, but there was nothing to bid him hope. It was all over in twenty seconds —his coming aud going —and then ho disappeared astern. Being lighter, ho was driven at five time our speed. He aid not so much as move a foot or raise a hand, but simply called out for help with a look—appealed to ub for a brief space, aud then went driving into that trackless waste of ocean over which we had sailed weeks and weeks, seemingly the only living thing upon it. No one could say from whence he came, but all knew where he was going—to a sailor's death.